


read between the line

by fiveandnocents



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Insecurity, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-02
Updated: 2017-12-02
Packaged: 2019-02-09 09:52:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12885351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fiveandnocents/pseuds/fiveandnocents
Summary: It’d been a locker room joke at first, how Rasmus’ soul words wrapped almost three full times around his bicep. Jake had thought it was funny too, how someone as quiet as Rasmus would end up with someone who’s first words to him were part of an excessively long, unintelligible babble. Or he did, until he opened his fucking mouth.





	read between the line

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rawrimmapanda](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rawrimmapanda/gifts).



> For rawrimmapanda - You want soulmate fic so you get soulmate fic! Pretty sure I was given your exchange for another player you said you'd like fic for, but when I went to your profile to see who your soulmate OTPs are and saw that Sabres fic is totally your jam (and that Rasmus is a sweet grump) I just had to oblige <3 I had fun writing it and I hope you like it!
> 
> Title from Soulmates by Placebo cuz I'm all kinds of creative

Jake doesn’t think he has a self-confidence issue exactly, but it’s been years, and sometimes he still feels like he has to prove to himself and Rasmus that the universe didn’t make a huge cosmic mistake by putting them together. 

It’s the little things, like how Jake can’t seem to learn Finnish no matter how many times Rasmus tells him the words or harps on him to enunciate the first syllable instead of the second, or like how they both have very firm and very different ideas about where exactly is acceptable to squeeze the toothpaste for maximum efficiency (it’s from the bottom, by the way, and Jake could prove this with actual diagrams but -) and the thing is, he knows couples fight - that being soulmates doesn’t automatically solve every problem, but he feels like it should sometimes, especially when Jake looks at Rasmus and sees pink lips and silken hair and feels radically inferior. 

Jake hit the soulmate jackpot, is the thing. Jake is, like, 80s hot. Like Kurt Russell in Overboard hot: dependable, big, more fitting to the word roguish, which is awesome, but Rasmus is... he's more than Jake has words for really. He's gotten lost in the blue of his eyes more than once, and if he's going off of comparisons right now, then Rasmus is Abercrombie and Fitch hot: good looking in a way that draws people in just by standing there looking bored and slightly annoyed. 

Rasmus is talented and beautiful and _picky_ , which is why it doesn’t quite make sense that he would tolerate Jake of all people, let alone love him. Whatever it is, Jake is going to make their life together so perfect that Rasmus doesn’t even think about changing his mind. 

\--- 

Game days look like this:

Jake swings his arm out blindly to mute Rasmus’ alarm, almost knocking it to the floor. He fumbles and curses the fact that Rasmus always sets his alarm the night before and leaves it on Jake’s side of the bed so that he never has to deal with it in the morning. He has to try three times to unlock the damn thing since he always manages to forget which finger he used for the ID, but once he silences it, he sets it next to Rasmus’ head on the pillow. Rasmus is slow to wake up, needs some time so he can scroll through twitter whenever he opens his eyes to confront the day. 

“Good morning,” Jake murmurs into the curve of Rasmus’ shoulder. He presses a kiss to the skin there and Rasmus snuffles sleepily back at him. 

Jake gives himself a breath - one, two - before he heads off to the kitchen to cobble together some breakfast.

Rasmus shuffles in right as Jake is plating the first omelet like he’s some kind of grumpy, egg-specific bloodhound. He messes with his phone as he eats and Jake doesn’t even notice that he’s staring at Rasmus’ soul words until he has to look back at the pan and all he can see is the way they curl around his bicep in a lopsided swirl. 

He sits down with his own breakfast and Rasmus must see the way he absentmindedly strokes a thumb over his own soul mark - small, scribbled letters that spell out, _okay_ \- because he wraps his ankle around Jake’s under the table without taking his eyes off of his phone. 

Jake smiles and swings their feet gently all throughout breakfast. 

At practice, they’re paired together more often than not and Jake manages to make him smile no less than five times, which is a feat for any non-Finn, and Reino only gives him a little shit for his stupid looking grin before he gets distracted and trails after Eichs. 

Jake's favorite part of the day is right after they get home. They’ve ended up becoming part of each others’ pregame routines due to sheer proximity and it’s a unique type of stress relief on it’s own when Rasmus pushes him down on the couch and settles on top of him like he belongs there.

They lounge for a few hours; Jake turns on their TV and watches one of those old-school claymation Christmas movies that he used to watch as a kid, while Rasmus breathes against his neck and fucks around on his phone, other hand wrapped around the letters on Jake’s wrist. Jake’s hand rests in the dip of Rasmus’ lower back, so he can feel the moment his breath starts to steady out like clockwork a few hours before the game. He shuffles Rasmus up and off the couch to the bedroom for their pregame naps, where Rasmus unashamedly tosses his phone to Jake once he sets the alarm. 

Waking up is almost an exact reenactment of the morning, except dinner is admittedly outside of either of their cooking repertoires, so Jake is forced to heat up one of the pre-made packages their food service left for them.

When Rasmus comes in, he’s sharper, awake enough to back Jake against the fridge with a strong grip on his hips and then lick into his mouth in smooth silky strokes. They have to reheat their meal and Jake is still a little dazed as he drives them to the rink, but the routine of it - _the routine of making out with my soulmate _, he thinks - settles him.__

__He might be imagining it, but he thinks he can see a shadow of a smile on Rasmus’ face as he looks out the window._ _

__\---_ _

__Off days go more like this:_ _

__Rasmus wakes up first because Jake can’t be assed to get out of bed without a pressing reason like practice or a game. Rasmus has had four years to learn this and he seems to take it as his lifelong right and duty to be the reason Jake gets up every morning, as if he doesn’t already do that just by existing._ _

__Rasmus is always warm with sleep in the morning and he never seems to mind Jake’s morning breath or frankly hideous bed head because he sinks onto him, chest to chest and tangles their feet together while they kiss. It’s incontestably the best way to be woken up and it makes Jake ache for more off days, even if hockey is practically his life._ _

__Rasmus always pulls away after a length of time that only he seems to be aware of, because Jake’s learned that morning breath may not be considered a deal breaker, but Rasmus draws the line at unwashed morning sex. Jake chases after his mouth as Rasmus pulls away, then grins at the heated look Rasmus shoots his way as he walks backward towards the shower._ _

__Jake still cooks them breakfast, even if the sun glinting in through the windows means that they’re pushing the limits of brunch by the time they make it downstairs._ _

__If they were more like real adults, they’d have errands to run, but their meal service brings them eggs along with their weekly meal plan and that’s really all they know how to cook anyway. Mostly, they sit together in the living room, sharing space while doing their own things._ _

__Jake sometimes calls his mom because he’s a good son and her Midwestern accent calms him in ways he refuses to be embarrassed about. Rasmus is more of a listener than a talker in every way that counts, but there are days when he holds his hand out in a wordless request for the phone and Jake happily spends the next ten minutes gazing soppily at Rasmus as he hums and nods along to whatever Jake’s mom is saying. He ends every call with, “Love you too,” and it’s stupid, really, how it always makes Jake’s heart feel too big for his chest to contain it. At that point he can’t not lean over and kiss Rasmus, because self-denial was a thing he gave up on when the universe decided to tie a proverbial red string between him and a sulky Finnish dreamboat._ _

__(They have sex a lot on off days, is what he’s saying.)_ _

__Jake tries to sneak in a cuddle before bed when Rasmus is up for it and he’s been more amenable to it as the years go on. Inevitably it’s during one of these moments where Jake’s getting exactly what he wants, Rasmus snug up against his side, legs tangled, that he decides to question it._ _

__He rolls to his side to hover over Rasmus, his weight resting on one forearm. Rasmus glares at him for moving just like Jake knew he would, and he didn’t know his heart could feel so much fondness for one person._ _

__“Are you happy here?” Jake asks, stroking a thumb over the strong line of Rasmus’ eyebrow. “With me.”_ _

__Rasmus’ eyes flutter shut with the pressure of Jake’s fingers, but his eyes are assessing when he realizes Jake is done speaking. The space separating them is warm with their shared breath and the skin beneath Jake’s hands is familiar._ _

__“You know,” Rasmus says, chest rumbling with it, “I thought I would hate you.”_ _

__It’s not an answer, not yet, but Rasmus is always so careful with his words that it will be. Jake laughs, because doesn’t he know it. “You thought I wouldn’t shut up.”_ _

__It’d been a locker room joke at first, how Rasmus’ soul words wrapped almost three full times around his bicep. Jake had even thought it was funny, how someone as quiet as Rasmus would end up with someone who’s first words to him were part of an excessively long, unintelligible babble. Or he did, until he opened his fucking mouth._ _

__“Hey, so want to uh…” He’d wanted to ask Rasmus to catch lunch with him and Enzo, but then Rasmus had made eye contact for the first time and Jake’s brain had effectively melted. “Wow, you’re really - fuck, no I mean - uh..ignore everything I’m saying, but also not because I’m inviting you to lunch with us, so - want to go?”_ _

__Rasmus looked annoyed as usual, that ever-present dip between his eyebrows honestly a little concerning, but he’d just licked his - jesus fucking christ - lips and said, “Okay.”_ _

__Now, staring down at the way Rasmus is looking at him, fierce as ever, but as close to tender as he’s going to get and he’s just grateful that Rasmus ended up telling him the truth a week later._ _

__“You didn’t have to tell me if you didn’t want to,” Jake says, quiet._ _

__Rasmus nudges his head against where Jake’s hand has stilled against his head and he doesn’t respond until Jake rubs the skin against his temples again. Rasmus’ smile is a mix between smug and pleased. “It’s not like the words were in Swedish.”_ _

__It startles a laugh out of Jake, loud in the hush of their room. He rests his head on the jut of Rasmus’ collarbone and breathes. “Yeah, that would’ve been pretty terrible.” He lifts his head at the feel of Rasmus’ hand on his cheek._ _

__“The worst,” Rasmus says, eyes sparkling, and Jake can hear all the things they haven’t said and don’t need to._ _

**Author's Note:**

> I have a tumblr :)


End file.
